


Acceptance

by LadyoftheWoods



Series: Supportive Sides [5]
Category: Sanders Sides (Web Series)
Genre: Accidental Self Harm, Angst, Dark Creativity | Remus "The Duke" Sanders Angst, Dissociation, Dissociative state, Fluff, Fluff and Angst, Intrusive Thoughts, Mild Blood, Self Harm, Sympathetic Anxiety | Virgil Sanders, Sympathetic Dark Creativity | Remus "The Duke" Sanders, Sympathetic Deceit | Janus Sanders, Sympathetic Logic | Logan Sanders, disturbing imagery, typical remus stuff
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-06-13
Updated: 2020-06-13
Packaged: 2021-03-03 22:40:56
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,120
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24703198
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/LadyoftheWoods/pseuds/LadyoftheWoods
Summary: Remus breaks down after recent events.
Series: Supportive Sides [5]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1688140
Comments: 21
Kudos: 263





	Acceptance

**Author's Note:**

  * For [renard_rouge](https://archiveofourown.org/users/renard_rouge/gifts).



> I'm writing a billion things at the moment, but renard_rouge gave me the idea for this, and I couldn't resist.

He’s shaking, trembling, really, curled up on the bed, rocking back and forth, arms wrapped tightly around himself, nails digging into his skin, but he can’t stop, he can’t stop, he’s so exhaustedly broken, but if he stops moving he’ll die. 

His room is a mess. He’s destroyed everything in it, all the furniture, his desk and his chair and his shelves, his morning star shattered to pieces. He’s already torn through his imagination, his castle in ruins, burned to the ground, ash scorching the air, the force of his screams blowing out the stained glass, and not in a fun way. 

His sketches are ripped and torn and scattered across the floor, his notebooks ripped in half, his paints stomped on, staining the floor in sticky puddles of colors, splashed against the walls, ruining the mural he’d worked so hard on, all mixing and melding into an ugly brown color.

It’s ugly and disgusting and gross and he hates it, hates it all, hates himself, hates everything, everything here. 

The voices are so loud. They’re so loud in his head and he can’t drown them out, they eat away at his brain like acid oozing in through his ears, they rip at his skin with the force of a hurricane, peeling off his layers of skin, then muscle, then flesh, then bone, until he crumbles to dust, scraping him apart with his own bones, his own teeth turning against him as they clench down on his tongue, hot blood dripping between them, down his chin, and he can’t see anything, he’s lost, so lost, deep in his own head. 

He wants it to stop! He wants it to shut up, shut up, SHUT UP! 

He’s choking on his blood and he coughs, spits, not caring that it lands somewhere on his bed, on his usually tidily made sheets, staining them red, red, red, too much red, and his fingers dig deeper into his flesh, more red dripping down his arms. He’s too hot and too cold and it aches and it burns and everything is too loud and too much, his clothes are scratchy and rough against his skin, his every breath in and out sounds like thunder, his own heartbeat pounding in his ears. 

He’s screaming. He thinks he’s screaming? He can’t tell if it’s him or someone else, but the sound is earth shattering, ear piercing, it gives him something to focus on, but soon his lungs are burning and despite everything his voice gives out, but there’s still too much left, he hasn’t let enough out, it’s still bubbling under his skin in ulcerous blisters. He screams again, but it doesn’t matter. It doesn’t matter, because no one is coming, no one is left, no one is here anymore. DeeDee is gone, Virgil is gone, his brother is gone, Patton never liked him, and Logan barely tolerates him, he’s all alone, no one is coming to save him from himself, and it hurts, it hurts more than a knife to the heart, it hurts more than splinters in his eyes, it hurts more than tacks in his feet, it hurts more than swallowing fire ants alive, and distantly he’s aware of hoarse, desperate sobs cracking through the silence, but it doesn’t feel real, nothing feels real. 

His world is spinning, spiraling, colors blurring and blending and reality is cracking, and he can’t even name the strange horrors he’s seeing, just vague images and ideas, filled with pain, and hurt, and violence, and he cries out for someone, anyone, for Dee, please, please, please! Then it fractures into a million, billion fractal reflections and facades and broken, empty reflections, and he knows it is hopeless.   
…  
It’s Logan, who finds him. Remus has been oddly silent for the last three days, and though the others brushed it off, it has him worried. Still, he was hesitant to breach Remus’s walls, but Janus was backsliding, and he knows how good Remus is with the scaled side when it comes to this. 

The room is a mess. Which is what he is expecting, to be honest, Roman’s always is too, papers and ideas and sketches hung to cork boards, plotting out his next grand adventure or novel. But this is a different kind of mess. A destructive kind of mess. Which, again, may not be unusual, until he looks closer. 

Journals. Notebooks. Beautiful drawings done in ball point pen, incredibly detailed, it would have taken hours to make some of these, and he recognizes the ripped and trampled shreds of some of them, remembers Remus showing them with pride. He can’t imagine Remus destroying them, and he adjusts his glasses nervously, taking another step deeper into the dark room, having to squint to make anything out. He fumbles around, and finally finds a light switch. It turns on green fairy lights, and all the air rushes out of his lungs before he practically sprints to the bed. 

“Remus. Remus, can you hear me?” The creative side’s eyes are open, staring blankly ahead, unseeing. He’s rocking just a bit, mumbling incoherently under his breath. He’s wearing only boxer briefs, small shivers wracking his frame, and he can’t tell if it’s from cold or shock. Dried blood covers his chin, stains his arms, and he realizes that Remus is scratching at his chest in a steady, methodical pattern. It is oozing blood, a deep X mark, nails digging deep into his flesh as if trying to claw his heart out of his chest.

He lets out a strangled sound and catches Remus’s hands firmly, though once he’s holding them, they go limp. 

“Remus. I am going to sink out with you now.” He doesn’t think Remus can hear him, but he narrates his actions anyway, taking a deep breath and sinking out to the commons.

“Logan?” Virgil asks as soon as he appears on the floor with Remus, setting aside his headphones. Then he catches a good look of the two of them and curses, leaping off the chair, crouching by Logan's side.

“He appears to be in a dissociative state. He is unresponsive to both noise and touch.” He explains, voice wobbling. “I am going to fetch the first aid kit and attempt to clean off the blood to determine the extent of the injuries. Stay with him?” Virgil nods instantly, taking Remus's hands as Logan stands, shifting to kneel before him. 

“Rem. Oh, Rem, what happened?” Virgil asks softly, not expecting a response, surprised as he feels Remus squeeze his hands, eyes shooting up to Remus’s face, finding it just as blank as it was moments earlier, but his grip doesn’t loosen. He keeps a tight hold of Remus’s hands as Logan returns. 

Remus doesn’t make a sound as Logan carefully wipes away the blood, wincing at the deep scratches running down Remus’s arms, careful around the deep gash on his chest. He wraps bandages all the way up Remus’s clawed arms, then carefully sews up the gash, before packing it with gauze. Virgil is wincing in sympathy, but Remus doesn’t flinch or acknowledge them even once. 

“He’s freezing. We need to get him into clothes and warmed up. Hopefully that will help bring him out of his shock. Familiar faces and voices will also help.” 

“Janus’s room.” Virgil says automatically, grabbing hold of Logan and sinking out.  
…  
He's warm.

He's wearing clothes, but they don’t scratch and scrape and dig into his skin. They’re soft and perfect.

The voices are quieter. Still loud, still there, but quieter, and he realizes someone is speaking.

“Rem? Can you hear me?” Virgil. His senses snap to, and he blinks, clearing his vision.

Virgil is before him, legs curled under him on the bed, Virgil's hands in his. His eyes are wide, breath held.

He's curled up on someone's lap, and realizes it's DeeDee, humming softly, his hands gently rubbing up and down his arms, grounding him.

Logan is the voice. He’s sitting beside the bed, a book open in his lap, reading aloud, the even, gentle noise quieting his mind further. He lets out a deep, shaking breath, slumping back against Dee, exhausted.

“hi.” He whispers, letting a soft gasp as Dee's hand cards through his hair.

“Hello, darling. How’re you feeling?” Dee's voice a soft murmur, a purr against his ear.

“Oh, ‘m fine. You know me, always getting into something or other.”

“Remus. You were and are not fine. You have been in a dissociative state for about a day now since I found you, though it very well may have been longer as you have been absent for about three, and done significant harm to yourself in that time.” Logan, setting aside his book. He swallows hard, pushing himself out of Dee's lap, moving to the edge of the bed.

“oh. S-sorry.”

“For what?” He blinks, looking up at Virgil. 

“what?” 

“What are you sorry for, Remus?” He swallows hard, squeezing shut his eyes, idly scratching at his arms, before he feels someone once again take his hands. He almost whines, because he needs the pain, he needs it, it’s the only thing that helps. 

“everything. I know I’m too much. I kn-know that’s why you left, cause I’m too loud and too annoying and too much. I can’t control myself, no matter how hard I try I just can’t and I ruin everything, and I’m not… not good.” 

“Remus. Is that what triggered you to shut down?” He picks at his bandages, before those hands corall his again, and he shakes. 

“D-dee’s gonna leave. You’re gonna leave. I’m gonna be all alone in the d-dark and it ma-kes it so much louder, it gets so loud, and I can’t make it stop, it won’t stop, but the p-ain makes them shut up, just for a bit, but it’s enough, it stops and it’s enough, and it hurts, but it’s f-fine, it’s fine! I deserve it. I can de-al with it, that’s my job, right? Handle all the bad, all the b-bad no one else wants, who cares if I can’t stop thinking what Roman would look like with his guts pulled out and strung across the bedposts, who cares if I can’t stop seeing plucking every shiny scale off of DeeDee, who cares if I try to rip my own heart out so I can crush it in my own fist, so I can never, never hurt anyone? It’s not enough, it’s never enough, it’s too much, too loud, too loud, too loud!” He screams, ripping his hands away from whoever is holding them, breath speeding as he falls off the edge of the bed onto the floor, clutching at his head and shaking. 

“nonononono No! I don’t wanna… I won’t, I WON’T! Don’t make me, don’t… I won’t hurt them, iwon’tiwon’tiwon’tiwon’t-“ Visions are filling his head, terrible, awful, horrible, and he’s clawing at himself, his face, his hands, his legs, anything, everything, because he’s bad, he’s being bad, he deserves to be punished.

“Remus! Remus, Stop!” Virgil is pinning him down, and he snarls, kicking, fighting, gnashing teeth, then one of his hands gets loose and he swipes at Virgil with a hiss. Virgil yelps, drawing back, and his vision clears, horrified. Four long scratch marks mar Virgil’s face, going from his left temple, across his eye, rather like Scar in the lion king. He lets out a small wheeze, scrambling back, unable to look away from the red, red, red, he hurt Virgil, he hurt him, he did that, he hurt him, he’s terrible, awful, this is why he deserves to be alone, this is what’s wrong with him, he’s not normal, he’s not good, he’s a mess and a wreck and a problem, everything that Thomas didn’t want, everything wrong with Thomas, everything wrong with the universe and they’re going to leave-

“Ree, it’s ok, I’m ok, I promise.” Virgil, arms open, and he howls as he falls into them, clutching at him, whimpering and whispering apology after apology. “I know. It’s ok, Rem, I forgive you, I know you didn’t mean to, I know.” Virgil murmurs in his ear, rocking him.

“I’m not leaving you, Remus. I wouldn’t ever leave you behind. I will never leave you all alone. I promise.” DeeDee, slipping behind him, wrapping both him and Virgil in his arms, and he presses tighter against Virgil.

“It’s f-fine. I can’t hurt anyone if I’m all alone.”

“Falsehood. You’ll hurt yourself, Remus. And that is an unacceptable outcome.” Logan, soft but firm.

“S-so? Why… why does it matter? So what if I hurt myself? Its not… im not like all of you. I’m not important, I don’t matter.”

“You do. Rem, you matter. I’m sorry I just… left, I’m sorry, but it wasn’t your fault. It was… a lot of things all combining, but it wasn’t all on you. It… it was mostly me. You scared me. When Lo popped up with you, there was so much blood and you weren’t talking and I thought… I just… I care, ok? I never really stopped caring, so don’t you dare give up on me. You’re the most stubborn, headstrong person I know, Rem. You’re not bad, just like I’m not bad, even if we can’t control ourselves sometimes, that doesn’t make us bad.” Virgil mumbles, holding him tight.

“You always take care of me, Remus. I will always do the same for you, if you just ask. You hide it so well.” He curls further into a ball, new, silent tears flowing down his face as the voices finally go silent, leaving him alone in his own mind.

“I scare Patton. Roman hates me.” He argues weakly.

“patton has warmed up to you. He understands that you have your own intrusive thoughts, and he can see through them to your actual distress and meaning. And Roman… is difficult but he misses you more than he would ever admit. Regardless, we are not leaving you alone or behind simply because of their feelings. Not when it is a matter of safety. Your safety.” Logan replies, and he sighs, a long, shaking breath, fists uncurling from around Virgil's sweater. 

“I’ll hurt you. I have hurt you.” 

“Ah. You referring to your introduction video, when you threw a ninja star into my head and ripped out two of my teeth.” He nods, looking down at the ground. “You know you did not actually cause me any harm, Remus. I can see through your actions and recognize they are not reality. Your actions did not actually damage me in any way. You knew that would be the case, which is why you targeted me, instead of Virgil or Patton, who would take the injuries literally.” Logan counters, and he’s surprised Logan can see through him that well, even then. 

“I love you.” He mumbles. “I love you and I’m terrified I’ll go too far and actually hurt you.” Exhaustion creeps into his voice. He knows what he wants, what he’s always wanted, but he won’t ask for them to stay, he won’t obligate them like that, when they should want to run as far and fast as they can. “you should leave me behind.” His throat feels dry when he says those words, the opposite of what he wants, but it’s what’s right. 

“Remus. Would it be accurate to state the thoughts get louder and progressivly more violent and dark in nature the longer you are without contact?” He furrows his brow, confused. 

“I… I guess. It… in the dark and the quiet there’s nothing else, just my own head and I can’t get out of it.” 

“Have the thoughts stopped now?” 

“yes, I mean, they never really stop, but they aren’t the only thing anymore, I can push them to the back of my head and only let the smaller ones slip out. It’s like a whisper when it was a scream earlier.” 

“Then why would we leave, darling?” Dee asks, and he blinks. 

“What?” 

“You pretty much just said that being around people and ambient noise makes your intrusive thoughts easier to manage, and stops you from getting so sucked in you end up hurting yourself, you idiot. So if you’re hanging out with us, yeah, they’re still gonna happen but they’re not gonna be as bad. Probably easier to control, just like my anxiety. That’s what a support network is for, Ree. It… it took me a long time, I guess, to actually learn that for myself, but it was worth it.” Virgil mutters, face a bit red, though he doesn’t miss the small, proud smile on Logan’s lips, the gleam in his eye as he looks at Virgil. 

His own mind is reeling. Of course, it’s easier to keep them quiet when there’s other noise around, of course touch is grounding and helps keep him centered in the present, of course doing things, activities, writing, drawing, helps keep his mind focused and allows him to let out the thoughts without hurting anyone, he just… he didn’t think the others would care about all that enough to justify letting him be around them. 

“I mean, I know that! I just… I didn’t think any of you would want to be part of mine.” He mumbles, hugging himself with a slight shiver. 

“Of course we will. We love you too, or whatever.” Virgil mumbles, pulling Remus back into a hug, before grinning and hefting him up in his arms, depositing him back on the bed despite his surprised screech of protest. 

He laughs as DeeDee settles beside him once again, stretching out and resting his head in Dee’s lap, legs laying atop Virgil, who snorts, but doesn’t move, simply grabs a fluffy throw blanket and tosses it over him.

“We’ll speak to the others tomorrow. I don’t expect a problem integrating you into the group, Remus. It will be beneficial for everyone. All of us working together is what is supposed to happen, anyways.” Logan says, voice smiling. “For now, you need to rest and let everything heal.” 

“ok. Keep reading? I… it helps, I think. He mumbles, already half asleep. He hears Logan’s voice start again, steady, feels Dee’s hand in his hair, feels Virgil holding his hand, and he smiles, tears dripping down his face. He didn’t think it was possible, any of this, and it feels… good. So, so good. For once, he doesn’t think he’s going to ruin everything. For once, he thinks the voices whispering in the back of his mind aren’t him, at heart, just a side effect of who he is and what he represents. And he knows, he’s safe from them, with so much warmth surrounding him.


End file.
